


it's wonderful, this end of our world...

by Mistropolis



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, Curses, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Don’t copy to another site, Fae & Fairies, Multi, NaNoWriMo 2018, The Darkest Parts of the Forest crossover, and all kinds of fae shenanigans, if u have read tdpotf u will know what's happening tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2020-05-18 08:45:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19331125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistropolis/pseuds/Mistropolis
Summary: One big town of colours and noises, one small glass coffin with a prince in the middle of it.One kid made a blood pact to bargain for their soul.One kid leased their life for the return of their friend.One kid wants to break out of their life, to be someone real.One kid observes it all.And in the middle of the maelstrom, the prince wakes...or; how several kids and a fairy prince destroy the little blithe town of chaos and conspiracies





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i finally remembered to post this... this is the legendary twewy x tdpotf au fic i was writing for nanowrimo last year. i was planning to finish part 1 first but... i sort of just... never come around to that lollll. still i hope to finish this already ridiculously long fic sometime.
> 
> for now i will just post the chapters i've edited over i suppose?? gradually i will post all 59k of it as i finish revising each chapter and hopefully when that time comes i actually have new materials hehe. for now just enjoy!!
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated!!

**One** midnight in the huge town of Shibuya, a town adorned with tourists wearing the colors of death and residents who wear their protection charms like parts of their life forces are stored inside, Sakuraba Neku is wearing his usual violets like any other day, strolling downtown to Udagawa with chilling winds on his back and pumping beats into his head, pounding, pounding to the rhythm of his pace.

“Hey, so how were the sightings?”

Neku instinctively dodges back into alley he comes from, back pressed so tightly to the walls that he’s sure the cold of it seeps into his heartbeats.

Around the periphery of his sight, a small group of teens, who can’t be older than seventeen, are walking down the streets of Shibu-Q Heads, shaking their heads and lighting cigarettes and spitting out gum. Neku makes a mental note to try scraping the coffin clean of them. The Prince doesn’t like strawberry-flavored gum, as far as he remembers.

“I don’t know dude, it’s just… a boy lying down there? What’s so cool about this whole thing?” One guy, in a black hoodie and a plastic stick sticking out of his mouth, pops out the lollipop and mumbles with a dismissing shake of his head. “I just don’t get the hype of seeing a small boy sleeping inside a fucking coffin. Maybe the glass coffin’s pretty by Shibuya standards or something? I just don’t see the appeal at all.”

“To be completely honest? You might be right on that,” A girl wearing a pink hoodie with splashes of red and gold everywhere concurs. “It’s just a boy inside a glass coffin. Maybe it’s some kind of PR stunt? What is there to even promote?”

“Hmm, as far as I know though, this ‘boy in a coffin’ thing kind of just springs up in the middle of, like, last year? Some locals told me so, anyway,” Neku can barely keep track of the features of every speaker of the group, seeing only the remarkable red and black and nothing else. “It’s just… supposed to be some kind of miraculous thing or something. Shibuya has always been popular as a hotpot for trends, so it’s not like they really need that kind of, like, magical attention.”

“Spoken like the philosopher of our group! I bet after we left that boy would get up for dinner!” Cues the cackling laughter of a group of arrogant teens who are too foolish to see through the veneer, and the frightened sighs of one who can. Still, even as they have passed through, it’s hard to extinguish one from the other. “I hope that boy’s gonna be well! It’s not exactly pretty sleeping there the entire day getting garbage thrown everywhere around him!”

Sharp-edged pain unspools across Neku’s palms, and he made a conscious effort to unclench his fists, to not get angry at the very thought of all the insults flinged towards the Prince.

They don’t understand. But that’s okay.

 

.

 

Neku gets to the Udagawa Back Streets, turns a sharp corner into the showcase area behind the mural, and there he is. 

The first thing he does notice is the severe lack of hygiene around the area; either the sanitation worker has been too tired to deal with the relentless stream of tourist garbage, or simply no one would be able to deal with it. There’s really never a shortage of idiots who come by to leave marks and muck up the place, so Neku understands that too.

It takes him an average of ten minutes to clean off all the bubblegum left sticking onto the pristine, clean cover of the coffin. Then it takes him another ten minutes to clean off all the candy wrappers, water bottles and whatnot lying around the coffin, as if a messy preparation for a ritual, to finally return the site back to its original state.

Well, as original as it could be.

Neku takes a general view of the site again. The display boards surrounding the coffin don’t have their lights turned on now, but even so Neku can still see the clear traces of all the chaotic ways the Prince has been described in. Some have described him to have risen from the earth itself. Some have speculated he is a monster defeated and cursed into an unending sleep. 

Neku can still smell the deep stench of the Shibuya River off its lids.

Neku sits down to the left of the Prince, thighs nearly touching the freezing cover of the coffin. He hugs his legs tight to his chest, burying his face into their small wreath of warmth before turning to look at the Prince’s face.

“Hi. It’s been a week again. And I do think nothing has changed yet.”

The Prince exhibits zero response, zero change in his limbs and body and face and fixed closed eyes.

“I don’t know if you have heard that last time, or you are just playing dumb. Or you really are a locked-up monster good for nothing. There’s far more possible reasons that you are completely nothing, but at that time it looked like the right thing for me to do. It still looks like that now.”

Neku half-gets up, one hand pressed tight into the gorges of the cold asphalt to support his body. He stares deep into the coffin. 

Studying the features of the Prince has never been a fashion going out of style for the residents for Shibuya. Even for Neku, who has always found the Music of Shibuya an  unnecessarily loud stream of nothing, finds himself a strict adherer to this habit whenever he and his friend visited the coffin.

Just like any other day, They were wearing smiles during the first time they found the coffin together. It had felt naive, to think that this coffin and the Prince belonged only to them, just because they were the very first people to discover him, but it had felt like magic. It had still felt like magic.

The two of them have loved staring deep into the coffin, for the entire afternoon, pointing out things the other could not have noticed otherwise.

_ Look at his face. He does always have a sneaky smile just around the corners of his lips, don’t you think? _

_ You are just projecting yourself because you smile all the time. Let me point out what actually looks different this time. Look at his hands. They are placed on his stomach instead of chest. _

_ Hey! That’s cheating! That’s not saying anything at all! _

And so on and so forth they have bantered. 

Some other time, their descriptions are that of a more sentimental manner, in ways that seem to threaten to lacerate the thin veneer of happiness they barely maintain around each other.

_ The Prince isn’t smiling today. Look, see how his lips tug slightly downwards? _

_ Slightly downwards? At this point you are just doing whatever necessary to keep winning against me. _

_ … If you say so. _

Before Neku could feel it, he has pressed his face onto the coffin, approximately the same place that overlook the Prince’s features. 

He rapidly shooks himself off the coffin, nearly giving himself a nasty sprain of his ankles had he been less careful. Maybe staring that deeply into the Prince’s closed eyes risks some measures of his sanity, the same ways some kids did invite troubles to themselves when they have done something inexplicably immoral to the Prince, or the coffin. Some jerk jock from a pretty prestigious high school allegedly tried to crack open the coffin by drilling into it with some power tools. The next day, a storm ravaged his family’s vacation mansion in the mountains. It had felt like a karmic comedy in some ways, but hearing it recounted in anyone’s language, and you can hear the slight hint of fear they have towards the Prince.

Neku picks himself up from the ground, skin slightly cut here and there from the force hurtling him down onto the hard ground. But the pain is so, so far away when he has so much else on his mind.

He sits down hard next to the coffin again.

“Were you mad at me? Or did I just scare myself for no reasons?” A bitter laugh, accompanying a slight scent of incoming tears, tears barely held back. “Do you enjoy me visiting you here everyday, at least until you’ve completed your side of the contract? 

Silence. The breezes mock Neku.

“I think I’ve complained to you for a lot of times about it already, but I really, really hope that blood pact wasn’t forged for nothing.” 

The Prince sleeps on, and the coffin stays locked. 

Neku stands up, despair roiling down the pit of his stomach. At this higher angle from which he looks down on the coffin again, the Prince’s features look far less peaceful, far less like a child locked up and more… more like a jester preparing for their next show.

It hadn’t felt like catharsis to look at him again. It had felt like reading a book detailing every single mistake Neku had ever made in his life uncomfortably.

“I’ll see you later.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Two** minutes since he has stepped into the school’s playground, and Neku realizes he’s early to school.

He can tell how he’s early for school; it’s not just in the obvious lack of people around, of stupid jocks and loud people rumbling around, but it’s in the silence. In the kind of silence you cannot feel any form of life in, except of your own.

Neku takes a few more stairs in stride and gets himself into the library. The only facility in school to open early is the library, and the library is the only place where being loud and noisy is morally wrong, and where upholding silence is a holy doctrine. Basically, the only place Neku can be himself.

“You’re early again, Sakuraba-kun?”

_ What happened to being quiet again?  _ The musings drift past Neku’s head for a moment, before he dredges up a smile. “Yeah, trying to get into the groove of waking up early and doing more things in general.”

“I hope you have much fun with all the collections we have…”

The rest of whatever the librarian might have said kinda just drifted completely away from Neku’s areas of concerns, as he refocuses back to the shelves, looking for the serial number that is the category of pseudo-science research books he needs.

Before the Prince appears, Neku has never considered the necessity of researching on stuff like pseudo-science. In fact, he doesn’t think most of Shibuya have considered that at all. After all, this town has never been known for fairies, or vampires, or werewolves, or literally any other kinds of paranormal creatures. Shibuya has always been a place for the latest fashion trends, the latest music trends, and the latest food trends.

After the Prince appears though, research on monsters and fairies and even zombies pop up everywhere, spurred by everyone’s mutual interest in an entity they don’t know anything about. It’s almost terrifying to see his own interest in it piqued, Neku knows in the back of his mind, but the first second he had laid his eyes on the Prince’s pale face, he’s doomed to the same fate as everyone else.

Would it be preposterous to assume a single book about fairies written by someone decades ago be reliable resources for that? Neku smiles to himself, as he picks up the leftmost book with a fancy spine and a eye-catching title of—

“Ah! Sorry!”

The book falls out of the shelf, and Neku nearly has it hit him head-on, before he slams the book away out of instinct. The book lands somewhere to his right.

“I can’t believe I messed up like this again, haha…” 

Neku turns to face the speaker. 

“Hello there, Misaki-san.”

Misaki gives him a rather awkward laugh, full of clumsy notes of exasperation and potential disgust (and if there’s still no disgust before, it should be there soon). “I told you time and time again already, Neku. You can just call me Shiki.”

“I wouldn’t want to get too close to a fairy-given friend, who also loves fairies, and who literally is crazy enough to make a bargain with a fairy to bring me suffering unless I talk to you all friendly now, would I?”

Misaki laughs, not entirely comfortably. “And, uh, like I’ve said several times already, we are not necessarily like, friends because of fairies.”

“‘Not necessarily’? Do you have any idea how ridiculous do you sound like?” Neku picks up the book again, brushing the little dust gathering on the cover when it got thrown down onto the ground. “Remind me again, just who is responsible for bringing a spell onto both of us for absolutely no reasons? Remember how that fairy you made a deal with literally dumped all my sketchbooks right in front of me unless I promised to be your friend?”

Misaki’s face flushes to a brilliant shade of scarlet, something between a cross glare and a pretend pout springing up on her cheeks, no doubt as the scene of that time replays in her head. “It’s, it’s not completely for no reasons… it was right for me, and, and I’m sure we could work it right for you too—”

“Ha. No thanks. I would very much rather we don’t try working out on that at all.” Neku bites back the  _ being together at all  _ in the case it severes something too horrific, and he turns away before Misaki could protest, bringing the book with him back to his classroom.

 

.

 

Finally, one book that does seem to have some decent knowledge on fairies, with its thick breadth and full-colored illustrations and diagrams.

Neku flips straight to the end of the book, to the index page and the ‘B’ section. Berserk, Boogeymen, Brownies… 

No ‘Blood pact’. This is going just wonderfully.

Neku tries to recall all that he has done that night. The sharp glint of the blade under the moonlight. The full moon, because Neku read somewhere that the moon can stand as witness during the ritual of a pact being made between a human and a fairy. The small droplet of blood dripping down onto the cover, vertically at the spot where his lips are.

Maybe that is the reason. Because the amount isn’t enough. But Neku has never read about the possibility of forming the same pact again at a different time. 

Neku grits his teeth and clenches his fists painfully tight at that thought.

“Hey, over there! Look who that is?”

Neku slams the book shut with a huff. With how thick it is and the extravagant hardcover, it should serve as a decent weapon when it comes down to it.

“What do you want again?”

“Nothing nothing, nobody would try to incite any trouble with you of all people here, right?” Someone who looks like a kid from a basketball team, or maybe baseball team, sits down condescendingly at the seat in front of him. There’s a wide grin on him, the kind they always have unless they have tasted Neku’s bitter, decidedly unedible spray can paint. “I’ve just heard that these days you are looking up stuff on fairies. What, your graffiti spirit finally wake up to the call of those lunatics?”

“What I would like to do is of no relevance to you.” 

“True, true, I would find no such thing to harass you over. I have better things to do.”

“So, why don’t you just get to that thing?”

“I’m getting to it in a minute, so no worries.” The guy stands up straight, pushes the chair back, and unleashes the loudest scream Neku has ever heard in his fifteen years of life.

The rest of the others all swivel to take a look, brows knotted against each other in a display of absolute confusion and perplexion. The guy doesn’t stop at all; if anything, his scream becomes louder and louder, persists and persists until it reaches into a crescendo that cracks the light bulb above the teacher’s desk, pulverizing the wires into dust.

Then he stops.

For a second, Neku fears his voice would crack indicatorily. “What do you want?”

The guy’s face stays blank, his eyes rubbernecking across the classroom, before they land back onto Neku. Then, he takes out a strip of paper. “He wants me to give this to you.”

‘He’? ‘He’ as in who? Neku doesn’t recall any boy who can make another guy scream like a banshee for no reasons and to make him deliver a small letter afterwards no less. Was he possessed or something? Does it have something to do with fairy possession or… ?

The guy walks out of the classroom, as if still in a trance. The rest of Neku’s classmates start crowding around him in no time. 

“Sakuraba, do you have any idea who that guy is?”

“I suspect that guy isn’t even around this grade. Maybe an upperclassman?”

“Wow! There’s gonna be so much fun stuff to read on the messageboard today!”

“Why the hell would a guy just scream then throw you a letter?”

Neku snaps out of his own trance at that, looking back down on the small strip of paper the guy has given him before he gets lost in the cacophony of his classmates’ noises.

There, written in a surprisingly elegant script, are the words:

 

_ meet me when the moon is full again. _

 

Neku flips the strip over and reads the back. Nothing. Then he turns back to the front and reads the whole sentence again, this simple sentence comprised of only eight words, but of which are hammering down onto his heart, one syllable after the next as the Prince whispers into his ears—

“Hey! Are you doing okay?”

“Huh?” Neku looks back up at the concerned faces of his classmates, these people he could barely name at all, and he is almost grateful for a moment there that he has not turned on his headphones like usual. “Oh. Don’t worry about me, I’m doing okay.”

“Of course of course, you are Sakuraba Neku, the discoverer of the Prince and all. Of course you won’t feel bothered by fairies.” Another condescending voice chimes in, and before the speaker can go on the rest of his classmates hush him and push him to the side. 

“Don’t say that kind of stupid things! Sakuraba-kun has already shouldered so much pain and sadness with all that. Don’t pester him about that anymore!”

“That’s right! It gives you no right to mess around with others like that! Nobody intentionally seeks out fairies, they kinda just live alongside us!”

“Ha! Sure, if you say so!” With another random fling of his hands, whoever that speaker is walks away from the dispersing group, no longer interested in debating semantics with the rest of Neku’s apparent supporters. 

Neku himself hauls his school-bag and saunters off, to nowhere his mind can conjure at the moment as the image of the glass coffin crowds his mind. 

Before he could make an awry judgement and walks out of the school, his feet swerve and bring him into the library again.

 

.

 

“Done with the book so soon? Is it too boring or something?”

“It’s nothing, miss. Just not to my taste is all.” Neku hopes the librarian will come with an auto-mute button soon, as he rushes straight back to the shelf he has checked up earlier, impatiently trying to pick out a book on spells.

“Looking for stuff on spells again?”

Neku startles, feeling the temporary exit of his soul out of his body before slamming back in and seeing the speaker. Then he just sighs again. “It really does no one any good when you just pop up and talk like that, Rhyme.”

Rhyme gives a soft giggle. Everything about Rhyme comes off as soft and gentle in a comforting way, even if she was just done scaring someone intentionally. “Gotta say, I can’t help it. Kinda just a family habit from being a fairy, you know.”

Despite the gargantuan size of the town, it has always been a kind of common fact for the residents of Shibuya to know that Rhyme is no human child of the Bito family. Everyone knows about that mildly amusing story of her origins and delivery to the Bito family; the Reaper fairy responsible for bringing the changeling Noise for Bito Daisukenojo gets switched with the changeling Noise for a certain Raimu in a family that no one ever ends up finding out of, because the changeling Noise for Bito Daisukenojo gets retrieved by their original Reaper mother before even crossing the boundary into the human world.

With that said, however, the truth that the Bito family have insisted on not only taking this changeling-Raimu as their own child had always been a stupefying addendum to the story. The fact that Raimu and Daisukenojo (or as they both prefer to be known instead, Rhyme and Beat) somehow do get along together like milk and honey, so much sweeter in a way that any other sibling concoction sharing the same bloodline could only dream to ever compare, also helps in enhancing the mystifying nature of the story grandly.

With that said, the truth that this small child in front of him is still a Noise… it’s always something hard to stomach, even for someone who’s rather familiar with fairies like Neku.

“I probably am. But for the last time, I wasn’t researching on spells and sigils and how they are drawn because I want to curse some people halfway into Sundays, or for making them into cheap merchandise to fool tourists.”

Rhyme giggles again. She never suffers from a shortage of those. “Welps, I do know that, so don’t worry about that. I know you aren’t the kind of kid who runs around using fairies like we are your commercial tools or something. With that said, can I help you in any way?”

Neku’s lips part as a question surges up from his throat, but then he holds it back in. How can he just give away the truth that easily? And to another of the Fair Folk no less? Would he be able to relatively live with himself if he just so easily gives away the truth; the one fairy pact he had made in a moment of passion, accompanied by sleepless nights of rumination? 

“... Sakuraba-kun? Are you still there?”

Neku looks back down at Rhyme, the somewhat tangible shape of her worry and fear barely palpable in the eyes clouded by her beanie. “Oh, I’m absolutely fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“So, do you still need the professional fairy help, or I’ll just leave you alone?”

Neku does need a lot of professional help, especially in the areas of fairies. The very concept of forging pacts between humans and fairies. The distinction between Reaper fairies and Noise fairies. The societal structure of fairies. Why the fuck do fairies like fucking with humans in all kinds of ways. Neku’s bursting to the seams with all these questions, but he seals them all back in with a nicely done butterfly loop.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you for reaching out though. That means a lot.”

Rhyme smiles, that kind of rare smile where it’s less natural fairy charm and more genuine human happiness. “No problem. I’m willing to offer help anytime.”

Neku draws up a half-decent smile of his own, then he leaves the library with nothing else in toll, not even responding to the librarian’s slow question on whether he has finally found the book he was looking for.

 

.

 

“Rhyme?”

It’s Rhyme’s turn to act shocked. “Beat? What are you doing here?”

“More like what are  _ you  _ doing here. Did that Sakuraba kid give you trouble or something? Need me to give him any—”

“No, it’s absolutely nothing like that, Beat. I was just wandering around. I won’t die on campus with pitchforks sticking out of me everywhere.”

“Rhyme! That shit ain’t funny to—”

“Relax, Beat, it’s just a metaphor.” Rhyme gives Beat that kind of small smile that shows a little of her elfish mischief and non-concern, the kind that should be just enough to throw him off along with ludicrous word usage. “I don’t even know where the hell any Shibuya folk will get pitchfork anyway.”

“I don’t care, Rhyme, you should still cut out that kind of talks.” Beat barely turns down his volume, turning around to look towards the reception desk. Either in fear of the librarian being one of the non-believers, or one of those who believe so much they have to bring silver and red skull badges with them everywhere.

“Beat. I’m not that tiny hamster-rabbit Noise who nearly got squashed by the Game Master-elect anymore, okay? Plus, that was like, what, more than a whole decade ago. Konishi could barely remember anything about a single Reaper. I doubt she would remember me.”

Beat looks as if he still has tons of arguments brewing inside of him, his cheeks bulging and hands flailing about. Eventually, he calms down with a loud, exasperated huff that the librarian has to give him a ‘shh’ gesture. 

“I know, Rhyme. I know that crazy cat lady fairy can’t possibly remember way too much about you. But you are still technically, like… I dunno, wrong in their eyes? Since you got dropped on our doorsteps instead of whatever family you were heading to. It was still a kind of mix-up and Konishi was still pissed off enough to want to put you down, right there, so…”

Beat’s words obviously start mixing up into incoherent messes, accompanied by the small deluge of tears already making their ways down his cheeks. Before the tears could blossom into the full expanse of his sadness however, Beat wipes them off. “Anyway, why did I turn into the person crying instead! It should be you who are worried. And it should be me who’s strong enough to protect you, and yet here I am…”

The curves of Rhyme’s smile drop down, the humour running out of her. She takes out a piece of tissue paper and hands it to Beat, who pushes it away while still desperately wiping his eyes free of the evidence of his empathy. His love.

Rhyme persists, shoving the tissue into his outstretched left palm. “Hey. Hey Beat. Remember all those times Mom would tell us jokes and increasingly dramatic accounts of that fateful encounter bringing me into the family? Remember how much we love those?”

Beat finally brings the tissue paper to his eyelids, and he sobs an agreement. “Yeah… Yeah, you are right.”

“She made them specifically because we were afraid of hearing the real one, the one that will remind us kids that we are no immortals or completely safe from those dangers. But you know what? We have endured everything we can up to this point. We can keep doing this.”

Beat breaks out into a smile, a shoddily-forced and curious smile on his lips. “Yeah. Yeah you are right. I still try hard to believe it. And you know what, Rhyme? I am going to believe it.”

Rhyme nods, a small smile with kindness and understanding etched into it rises. “We can do it.”

“Alright! Let’s get out of this library before that old lady tries to annoy us again…” Beat makes his way towards the exit, and Rhyme follows, her lips never once giving up that smile all the while. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Three** more dresses sewn, and Shiki throws the needle and thread back down onto the table, eagerly collapsing onto the bed still wrought with clothes everywhere. 

“God…” She sends that little exclamation into the air, even though she knows there is no such thing as an actual God out there, at least as far as Shibuya, fairy-infested Shibuya is concerned. Along with that thought, the rest of what might have been her prayers evaporate too.

Shiki stares up at the star-patterned wallpaper of her bedroom’s ceiling. This is one her parents have picked for her ages ago, under the idea that as long as they could provide her with something fancy and beautiful they might finally open up their daughter’s heart she so insistently kept locked away with a key that could only be moulded from fashion designs. Fashion designs that reek of Eri.

Well, and maybe that one Sakuraba.

… She shouldn’t waste time thinking about that.

Shiki gets up and stares down onto the table of designs again, mentally calculating all the cuts and patching she will have to do before the next batch of sample nightgowns can be sent out to the local community centres. The deadline is next Monday, two days later. Technically, there’s no such thing as a deadline with all the cheery mothers and aunts and grandmothers, but Shiki likes keeping things in order.

“Shiki? Are you holding up okay there?” 

“I’m fine, mom. Just taking a break.”

“Take all the breaks you need, sweetie. I know this whole community job of sewing so many samples for them must be exhausting.”

Shiki cracks a smile. “It kinda is. But I do love it.”

“That’s wonderful, sweetie. Just remember to take it easy.”

Shiki chuckles to herself, the first notes of her laughs barely reaching her eyes. 

 

.

 

Shiki heard the story at the age of six, or at least as she had remembered. The number isn’t exactly a relevant piece of information.

As young as she has been, Shiki had found endless magic in hearing about that story, as she pestered her mom, again and again, to tell her the story, the story of how Shiki came to be bestowed with the beautiful gifts of a talented seamstress.

A long long time ago, or realistically speaking, fifteen years ago, Shiki’s mom was a struggling fashion designer who has first tried her hand at sewing appliques onto a nightgown, when a tall woman with a basket of kittens and skunks passed by.

Even not mentioning the obviously strange basket of creatures, the woman herself has other defining physical features carrying hints of the Fair Folk. The unusual height, the dress she wore that shimmered and shined like constellations burning against a sleepless night, the small lips of hers that pressed tight into a smile and construed curiosity. “What is it that you are making?”

Shiki’s mom has allegedly looked up, then looked right back down onto her dress projects, taking zero time to consider why she has been doing that in a public park instead of at home. “A nightgown. I would love to continue the conversation, ma’am, except as you can see here I am so so terribly busy—”

“Oh, that sounds unfortunate. It’s always a joy to speak to other people who share and contrast your viewpoints in this world. I had looked forward to discussing to the end of the world with you, but I suppose I shall hold it in for now.” The woman smiled a teeth-glinting smile, getting down onto her mom’s eye-level and watched as if she’s the one being mesmerized by Shiki’s mom’s craftsmanship.

After she has finally sewed onto the applique, the woman stood up.

“Can I make a deal with you? Sew a dress out of the pelts of these creatures in my basket, and I shall give you something of your own request.”

Shiki’s mom has acted irrevocably revulsed at that idea, as most other people would, but she has held that in a carefully masked face. After all, showing any displeasure so easily in front of a fairy, especially one who has just tried to make a bargain with you, is one of the worst taboo ones can commit on the grounds of Shibuya. “I, I must say I am proud of the fact that you, ma’am, had a high enough regard of my products from such a short time of observation, like, how fast you are to request accordingly. But I’m afraid I can’t commit to that.”

“Hmm? Why not?”

Normally, in situations like this, people either agree to it, and risk displeasing the fairies shall they find the end results unsatisfactory; or disagree to it, and risk the complete wrath of the fairies for daring to disobey. Or complete trickery from them, depending on how you view them.

In this case, Shiki’s mom has a rather unique answer. “I don’t think I can possibly commit to making something as wonderful as I have, given your materials; I am simply not knowledgeable enough of them. I wouldn’t want to risk desecrating your dear possessions just like that.”

At that response, the woman has laughed, heartily, and smiled down on Shiki’s mom like a brilliant ray of sunshine.

“I appreciate your courage and honesty. Believe it or not, they are increasingly rare elements found in you humans. As much as some of them can come off as entertaining, they get tiring gradually…”

Shiki’s mom nodded and mouthed a quiet agreement, as if any louder and she would be persecuted by humans and fairies alike. “I, I see.”

“With that said, would you be willing to sew a dress for me anyway? I don’t mind what materials you use; as long as it is your creation, I will be fine with it.”

“Really?”

“And I won’t rush you; you can do this on your own terms. Additionally, the request in compensation will still be effective. You can still ask for anything you’d like.”

Shiki’s mom had tried to channel the kind of intelligence that generations of humans who have dealt with fairies had displayed at the crucial moment of a fairy deciding a deal or a pact with a human, and the human considering it. “I accept that. I am glad you have a high enough regard for my craftsmanship.”

The woman smiled, and finally, she left with her full basket of kittens and skunks.

This is usually the part where Shiki’s mom would smile and looks down on Shiki’s expectant smile, an expectant smile of her own shining in reflection of her daughter’s. “And Mommy did end up making the fairy lady the brightest nightgown she had ever seen, and for the request, what do you think I have asked for?”

Shiki always smiles brightly at the opportunity to answer. “The same artistic sensibilities as mama!” Except Shiki was small then, so she often mispronounced the word ‘sensibilities’ into a mishmash instead.

And Shiki’s mom would always, always laugh a quiet, teasing laugh, as she runs her hands through Shiki’s dark cedar bangs. “I asked for you to surpass even my artistic talents. For you to become one of the greatest seamstresses and even fashion designers, this side of the world has ever seen.”

“That’s so sweet of you, mama.”

“Silly child. What kind of mother isn’t sweet to their own children?”

 

.

 

Shiki gets down to the living room for dinner.

Today they have vegetable broth as a side dish of sorts. Shiki can’t recall the last time Mama has cooked anything that doesn’t involve vegetables.

“Mama? Are we having any guest over here today?”

“No, why do you ask?”

_Then why do you still like serving so much vegetables for no—_

Shiki shakes off the question herself. What is Mama going to think of her if she asks such a ridiculous question?

“Nothing. I was just, I dunno, kinda hoping we could have relatives over from time to time? It’s been some time since I saw grandma.”

“Oh, that? That’s understandable.” Mama pours in a huge serving of vegetable broth and shoves it to Shiki. “There. Eat more veggies, keep your head clear and good.”

_Like while I am sewing? Or when I am—_

Shiki’s chopsticks hit against each other with the force of heavy slabs of graphite slamming against each other. “Sure thing, Mama. Your broth always tastes so great.”

“Haha, is that true? Then Mama will cook more of them too.”

“Ah ah, not too much though, Mama. Sometimes I have a feeling that Papa would love to eat more meat in general.”

“Your Papa has an unfortunately rotten sense of healthy lifestyles, my child. With that said, though, of course I would watch for the portion.”

Shiki smiles bright, because that’s what Mama would love to see the most.

 

.

 

Neku startles out of his nap.

“Dear, is there anything wrong?”

“No, mom. Nothing bad happened.”

‘Nothing bad happened’. Because it would be the greatest lie to say nothing happened.

“That’s good. When you are ready, come down for dinner.”

Neku looks out of the window, pulling the curtains back to reveal the fullness of the night. Stars sparkle like usual, and the moon is of a rather lovely crescent. 

Neku sits down hard at the bed. Looks like it’s not gonna be full moon anytime soon.

“Are you gonna get your dinner or not, young man?”

“Coming, coming!” 

Neku rushes into the living room and mom is already sitting there, with what looks like a small pout as she eagerly chomps down on her own dinner.

When she spots Neku coming in, she raises her somewhat suspicious eyes at him. “Are you doing okay? What takes you so long to come down again? Another grand project?”

“Mom, you know I don’t have any project recently.”

“Then it’s the supernatural relations again, isn’t it? Is it those damned Reapers, or the squirrel-y Noises—”

“Mom! Mom, please,” This dinner has rapidly devolved into a shouting match. “You know I am no stupid tourist who doesn’t know how to deal with them. Or any of those detractors.”

Mom smiles at that, satisfaction written across her lips. “Good. And of course I know my son can handle himself way better than any stupid tourist and other folks.”

At that, she puts down her own chopsticks and bowl, crossing her arms with an unreadable look in her eyes. “If that’s the case, do you finally want to talk about—”

_Oh fuck did she find out about the blood pact or does she just want to give me more pep talks about the Prince for no reasons or is it about how I shouldn’t take my sketchbook with me everywhere or else what happened to Misaki’s mom will also happen to me or is it—_

“—the fact that you forgot to put elderflower around your bed again?”

Neku mentally released the loudest sigh of relief he had ever made in his life. “Oh, oh that, mom. Sorry I forgot, it’s just, you know, schoolwork and trying to rearrange my room again and all that—”

“Yes yes, I know that, Neku. I’m just essentially reminding you to get back to that because you don’t want some stupid Noise fairies landing on your bed then screech into your—”

“Yes yes yes mom.” Neku speeds up chewing the boiled carrots in his mouth. It tastes terrible, but it’s a small price to pay to avoid what other questions mom’s overactive imagination might cook up.

Precisely twenty more bites later, and Neku announces the end of his dinner and the commencement of his ‘alone time’ in his bedroom. “I’ve got some homework to do, and I promise I will check and see if I have actually run out of elderflower, okay?”

“And, and one more thing, Neku.”

Neku forces his feet to stop proceeding, eager to get whatever miscellaneous reminder will be given this time over with.

“Your dad and I will always be here if you want to talk about them, okay?”

_Them._

It’s such a simple word, but torrents of emotions rain all over Neku’s heart before dissolving into nothingness again.

“Did you hear me, Neku? I just want you to know—”

“—That you are always here for me. I know that, mom.”

Mom smiles, her concerned spirit finally settled as she turns on the TV and gives him a thumbs-up.

Neku smiles back and speeds up to his room, fighting himself not to add in the words _unlike Them_.

 

.

 

Neku opens a scrapbook with elderflower taped to the cover.

He hasn’t touched it in some time; last time he remembered touching it at all, he was giving the dried elderflower taped to the cover a rough shove, wanting to free it from the cover before he could continue with the scrapbook’s destruction.

Neku shakes his head, but no matter how rough he treats himself the memory won’t go away any time soon.

Anyway.

Neku opens the scrapbook, coughing for a second at all the dust it has gathered being released in the motion. He has opened it to somewhere around the middle, which is where he needs to see the least, as far as he can remember at the moment, with all the candids he has done on the Prince himself without Their knowledge.

He flips back to the front pages, faster and faster until he reaches the page with a numbered list.

_And so this is all that we will do in the future when the Prince wakes up, right?_

_You said that like you are so sure he will._

_That’s because I know he will! Neku, please don’t tell me you thought he won’t wake up this whole time we are visiting him._

_Of course, I’m not saying that…_

The numbered list is a well-categorized and well-articulated list of things Neku and Them have observed in the few years they have known the Prince, on all the things that could be related to Him and all the possible necessary manners and etiquettes they have to practise with the Prince.

With that said, however, Neku thinks to himself, a little smile all the while he is reading through the list, some of them are still things they have come up with themselves, things they made up without any concrete knowledge of actual fairies. Within a mixture of all these made-up facts of their own and actual knowledge generations and generations of Shibuya folks have passed down, all these have been a way for them to understand their world and that of the fairies’.

Neku reads on the list, past names of flowers the Prince likes according to Them and materials of traditional charms Neku has made for the Prince out of curiosity and boredom until he reaches the part about pacts and deals and business with fairies.

 

_Always remember that the highest forms of deals/pacts you can make with fairies, and the fairy Royalty, in particular, is the blood pact. Blood pacts are only made between humans and fairies who trust each other to the utmost. No forms of trickery or breaking pacts on one side is an allowed occurrence in a blood pact._

_Even though blood pacts are the kind that fairies will most certainly agree to without a doubt in their own hearts, it is still important to note that blood pacts cannot be formed if either side has a sudden change of heart. Both sides must agree to the terms and payback of the pact at the time of pact-forming and even years and years long after that. Should this small strand of the pact be broken, irrevocable and unspeakable evils and misfortunes might befall both parties in question._

_Think very, very carefully before you decided on forming a blood pact with another fairy._

 

The list ends at that. Neku sighs to himself again, finding to his frustration again that there is technically nothing else he can gain from everything he has read already. 

Must he wait until the full moon? Can he take no initiative at all?

But then again… the fact that he has taken the initiative to form the blood pact in the beginning should have been telltale enough of his determination. And if the Prince could not sense it, if the Prince had decided to leave him out cold… surely he would not have sent that, right?

Neku closes the scrapbook. _Without a doubt. Absolutely. Trust each other to the utmost._

… Trust each other.

 

.

 

_“Have you ever gone into the Shibuya River?”_

_“No. Why are you asking? Are you finally bored with the murals or something?” The question has come off sounding like an afterthought from Them, but the tension in it was palpable. They were rubbing their hands against each other, trying to play off their nervousness as nothing._

_Neku gave Them a rare full-blossomed smile. “No, it’s not that. I was just… you know, thinking about it. We always love going to all the corners and notches of Shibuya, right? So I was thinking, why not that river too?”_

_They nodded, seeing the sense in that. “Hmm, you are right. Besides, we can’t just keep going to the same places over and over again. Always great to discover new things.”_

_“That’s what I was thinking! So you with me?”_

_“Sure!”_

_They waded through the drenches of dark waters rolling in the Shibuya River, going deeper and deeper into the dark tunnels._

_“Hey, Neku? Do you really think we will find anything fun here?”_

_“I don’t know…”_

_That question was rubbing off on Neku’s nerves, a small respite in his mind as he took it in and tried to understand it. Anything fun? Was that the purpose of their visit? Was it really?_

_It hadn’t seemed like that at the time. His purpose in visiting the Shibuya River has been something of a different manner, something important to him and to him only—_

_“Huh? What is that thing a little ahead of you?”_

_Neku looked up from his mud-drenched trainers. Right in front of them, something rectangular and curved was placed, and if the river has a stronger flow that thing might have floated off, judging at how it seemed to knock from left to right and reversed and again while they were staring at it._

_They made a rare uncomfortable face at the rectangular block. “Look at all that mud and moss on it. It looks super gross…”_

_“I thought you are a big fan of flowers and stuff though? How would you be disgusted by something with mud and moss on it?”_

_“That might be what you think, Neku! But that doesn’t mean it’s true. Don’t you have any idea just how much, how much grime and bacteria can be in it? Plus, normally when I do handle flowers, I wear gloves beforehand, so this is absolutely not a fair comparison—”_

_Neku placed his hands on both sides of one end and pulled._

_“Hey! Did you not hear anything I said?”_

_“I did,” Neku continued pulling on the block, and the block evidently did move, even if only a little. “Of course I heard what you said.”_

_“Then what the hell are you doing!”_

_“I want to pull it out and see what is hidden beneath it.”_

_They have frowned at Neku with a look that screamed ‘where the hell did you put away your brain?’, but They gave a sigh, then moved Themself to the other end. “Alright. Let’s see.”_

_Neku smiled, an unnaturally bright and beautiful smile that moment._

 

_._

 

_Eventually they succeeded in moving the rectangular block back onto one side of the sewer before it could float away on the river again._

_They have stared at the block all excited. “I wonder what is in there? If it’s just some regular ol’ defective products from some factories, I will be holding you responsible to one hundred ice creams for me.”_

_“That’s a high price you are asking, especially considering just how excited you were just now—”_

_“Anyway! Let’s see what it is.”_

_They worked together to cover areas on different parts of the block. They started by trying to wipe off all the mud and moss sticking onto the coffin. After spending what felt like an eternity, Neku manages to clean off a little off the upper section of the block._

_“Hey, is it just me or… it looks transparent?”_

_They looked to where Neku pointed, and frowned. “You… seem to be right, Neku. It does seem… like you can just see through into it. It still looks way too murky to—”_

_“... Is that a human I’m looking at?”_

_They stopped, and moved to where Neku was standing and staring down at the coffin. Together, both of them stared down hard at the small cleaned patch of space on the coffin._

_Through the endless spatters of mud, they made out the distinct features of a human boy with pale skin._

_“How the hell… ?” Neku started rubbing off the mud faster and faster, and They followed suit, running back to the end and started work on there. They rubbed and rubbed and rubbed, both way faster than before, a fervent desire and curiosity burning in their eyes._

_Neku was done first, and he grabbed Them to look his way._

_“How was it, how was it?”_

_“It’s not a human boy. It’s a fairy.”_

_Neku watched with a smirk and smugness as Their eyes widened and They looked back down to get a better look of the boy._

_The boy did have pale skin, and even paler hair to match, fluffy cotton locks strung around his ears and cheeks. He wore a simple lavender (or is it grey?) shirt, one almost uncharacteristic of a fairy._

_“But, Neku, can he really be a fairy? What if he’s actually a human boy?” The fear in Their voice exploded all of a sudden._

_“I don’t think that’s possible. Look at how pale he is, and focus on all the smoke leaking out of him.”_

_“Smoke leaking out of him?”_

_They looked down again, and to Their wonder there was indeed what looked like white smoke coalescing and sundering between the boy’s thin arms and neck._

_“How the…” In an uncharacteristic change, They looked towards Neku with questions in Their eyes. “What do we do with this, Neku? Do you think it could possibly be a fairy locked up in it by other fairies? Maybe he’s a loser at a Reaper’s Game? Now that we unearthed it, what could it possibly mean…”_

_“I don’t know, but…” Neku trailed off, putting one hand on the surface of the coffin as if he himself still couldn’t quite believe how real it was. “For the time being, I don’t think we should let anyone outside know yet.”_

_“But, Neku, why—”_

_“Because it’s our secret. It’s that simple.”_

 

.

 

It did seem simple at that time, to finally discover secret treasures by his initiative and to take control of how they would deal with it. After all, ever since the murals, it has always been Them taking the initiative of everything they do together, so that time had felt like a solo victory, and a hard-earned one at that.

Neku shakes his head. No time to think about trivial matters like that now.

He boots up the computer and inputs ‘blood pact’ into the search engine, and then localizes the search results to local Shibuya websites in the search filter.

The millions of search results shrink into thousands, and Neku commits himself into the search inside the net ocean.

 

.

 

Beat was just done with his portion of the laundry and rushes back into his bedroom when Rhyme steps into his room.

“Rhyme? What do you need at this time? I thought you went to bed already.”

Rhyme is facing inside the bedroom, not a single movement in her muscles when Beat asked, and not even when Beat gives her shoulders a tentative shove.

“Rhyme? You are scaring me like this.”

Still, no movements.

Beat’s guts drop to somewhere lower than the ground.

“Mom! Can you see what the hell is happening here?”

Beat’s own voice echoes back to him, and Beat is brought back to the uncomfortable realization that everyone else in the house has gone outside for an annual visit to mom and dad’s respective families. Beat and Rhyme are left to their own devices for the whole week. 

So that leaves Beat with the most limited options he could ever imagine.

“Whoever you are, a fairy or some wack-ass demon possessing Rhyme, you better fucking leave her alone now, or I’ll be putting you into hundreds o’ shades of hell!”

Echoes, then silence reigns all over the house again, as if mocking Beat in his utter helplessness in trying to change the situation at all, as if mocking him again and again at how little to no control he has over any situation involving him, how he has no say and no control and no say and no—

Rhyme turns around.

“Rhyme! Can you hear me?” Beat grabs onto her shoulders, giving them one, two, three shoves. Rhyme’s blue eyes seem to remain glazed over, and if Beat had blinked too many times he swore he could see the colours shift in her eyes.

Rhyme’s face, previously slightly tilted upwards, starts to lower and focus onto Beat.

“Inform me, are you a Shibuya folk at heart?”

This isn’t a development Beat has predicted. Then again, he has never imagined many kinds of actions fairies could possibly be subjecting him and Rhyme to, the fact that Rhyme herself is naturally a fairy aside.

Beat puts down his fists. “Yes, of course I am.”

“Then, by the virtue of the answer, the Reaper court and the Noise court can believe in you that you will fulfil our will in the protection of Shibuya, is that correct?”

 _What can you possibly take away from me at this point?_ Beat swallows up the question and nods yes.

Rhyme smiles in a way that resembles her and resembles a blood-thirsty Noise berserker. “Marvellous, Bito Daisukenojo—”

“Hey, hey! Asking questions aside, is it necessary for you to suddenly call me that stupid lame name—”

Rhyme takes back the smile immediately. “May I remind you, _Bito Daisukenojo_ , that your sister is still in our control?”

“Yes, yes I remember that. Sorry I freaked out, okay?”

The smile surfaces again, not any less creepy at all. “Good. Then I shall continue. I ask your sister to become a vessel for our collective Courts because there is an imminent threat to our current status quo.”

“Right, status quote, something about you guys’ yearbook quotes or something, right?”

Rhyme huffs, immensely unpleased. “No. ‘Status quo’. It means the current situation of our fairy courts.”

“Right right right, so how exactly the hell does it relate back to me and Rhyme?”

“Be patient, mortal. I can easily end your sister’s life at the snap of my fingers.”

Beat grits his teeth, careful not to let the fairy see whatever display of anger he is hiding. “Okay. So what’s next? What exactly do you request of me?”

Rhyme smiles satisfactorily. “It’s simple. There is a traitor amongst our midst, a fairy Prince our people have rejected in the wake of all the destruction he has wreaked upon us. We forbade him from returning, by banishing him into the confines of the glass coffin, but recently we have sensed an unease from him.”

_The glass coffin prince? They want me to do something to him?_

Beat does his damn hardest not to interrupt the fairy until they finish and look at him expectantly. “So, I am assuming you want me to do something about him… ?”

“Of course I do. Why else would I contact you? Keep up, Bito Dai—”

“Okay okay let’s hear about it. The thing you want me to do.”

Their conversations have evidently devolved into an exchange of Beat’s exasperated “okay okay” while the fairy controlling Rhyme made her smile creepily from time to time. “The Prince already has human allies who must be stopped before he could make a return to our realm. The primary suspect we have as of now is a human boy named Sakuraba Neku.”

“Sakuraba? He did discover that glass coffin the earliest, but doesn’t he just swear off going there ever since—”

“That is not quite the case at all. Sakuraba has retained some contact with the Prince, and even in his inanimate form, the Prince has managed to establish pacts with the human boy that would mark his untimely return. We simply cannot live in the Prince’s reign ever again.”

“And therefore, you want me to—?”

“At the time of the next full moon, Sakuraba Neku will be summoned to complete his terms of the pact before the Prince could fulfil Sakuraba’s terms, and we heavily suspect that the terms on the Prince’s side would involve his liberation from the coffin.

“That’s where you come in, mortal. We require your help to incapacitate Sakuraba Neku in any way possible, to stop him before he could return to the glass coffin and help the Prince escape.”

“I need to… I need to stop Sakuraba from going there? But,” The intense urge of questioning rises within Beat once more. “Why do you have to involve me especially though? Aren’t there literally anyone far more competent in this job? Don’t you guys have any fairy that could possibly stop both Sakuraba and the Prince themselves—”

Rhyme snorts derisively. “And do you really assume I would meddle with your kind so specifically if I have an alternative in my disposal?”

“Got it. Stop them before they could do anything—”

“Stop them from meeting again altogether, preferably not just before the next full moon.”

“Okay, stop them from meeting anytime altogether. Doesn’t feel like something I can accomplish, considering I know nothing about his nightly agenda…” Beat muses out loud, before realizing the red of Rhyme’s eyes is yet to fade. “Okay, what else do I gotta know? Any incentive or shit?”

Rhyme’s smile bleeds into an even more sinister version. “The incentive provided is terrifyingly obvious, I would say. Your sister, for one.”

Beat feels the blood rushing to his head. “What is it about my sister now? Isn’t she just a temporary vessel for you to—”

“Isn’t she just a temporary vessel for me to communicate with you? Ha. That’s very funny and simple-minded of you, Bito Daisukenojo.”

The blood is boiling somewhere around the top of his head, a halo of pure rage and anxiety and crumbling logic. “Don’t you dare try anything on Rhyme, I swear to all fuck above I will—”

“You will not be doing anything if you do know better, Bito Daisukenojo. Or do you have difficulties understanding what I have just said?”

A thick layer of silence hangs over the house again, like the thickest blanket woven from concrete pain and tears had overlaid itself onto the entire house, actively suffocating Beat and his dwindling calm. On the periphery of his senses, he could feel his nails digging deep into his palms, the tiny crescent pools on the edge of bleeding barely holding in his anger and frustration back into his body.

“No. I don’t have any difficulties with that.” He raises his head back up and stares deeply into Rhyme’s eyes. Their eyes. “I will do that. Stop Sakuraba and the Prince meeting anytime soon again.”

“Before and after the full moon. Keep him away forever.”

 

.

 

Shiki sews one final seam onto the nightgown, and she is done for the night.

She heaves a huge sigh of exhaustion, standing up and stretching herself a few times before letting herself fall onto the bed. This bed that she only sleeps on for six hours or less, interspersed with occasional naps of even less time. 

After some of her heat does seep through the sheets into the bed, Shiki’s eyes spring opened once more.

“Goddammit… go to sleep already…” Shiki tosses herself over once, facing towards the curtain-blinded windows. Tonight the sky isn’t peppered with stars, a mere black canvas of nothingness.

Just like her heart. How fitting.

Shiki rolls back so her back is against the windows instead. No time to get all sentimental, now is the time for sleep.

For sleep.

She gets up again. 

Moves quickly to the table. 

Lie down all the threads and needles orderly onto the table.

Orders each of the threads, coloured different shades of blues.

Picks up the needle.

Picks up the seams.

And with a small tug of the threads, she 

                           starts 

                                         sewing

                                                           moons

                                                           and

                                          stars

                            into 

the dress.

 

.

 

“Shiki? Are you done? Can you get up for today?”

“Yeah, I can.” Shiki picks herself up from the bed, heavy limbs overweighting a heavy heart. She sighs as she watches the way the spools of seams on the table roll off to the ground, apparently a sign that she hasn’t picked up after herself last night.

“Was I that exhausted… ?”

She puts everything back to their respective shelves (noting with disgust at the fact that somehow she has left all the blue threads lying around; some of those threads were her favourite colours) and heads back to school.

Several steps into the school, Shiki ponders again on whether she wants to chance going to the library.

Going to the library might lead to the following:

One, she can go borrow some more books on sewing and other related stuff for her to get even better.

Two, she might meet Neku and attempts to talk with him. Which could lead to:

Three, Neku coldly rebuffing every single one of her attempts to befriend him.

Shiki pauses in her tracks for a second, a small pout glowering on her face despite her best attempt to keep a smile for the whole day. Right. Please, please some fairies just tell her why the one she has made a deal with her would do something as ridiculous as—

“Morning.”

“Ahh?” Shiki startles, bouncing a small step away from where she stands as she looks back for the speaker.

Somehow, it’s none other than Neku himself.

“N—Neku? What are you doing here so early—”

“Are you the only one authorized to get up this early, or is it?” Neku sports a glower not too much unlike him most of the time, then walks off.

“That’s not what I— Hey! Don’t go away so fast!” Shiki runs up to chase right after Neku, a sudden determination to go with the route she has been hesitating on going after. 

“Hey, when you just decided to greet me just now… Are you thinking about finally being friends with me?”

“I’ve never said that.”

“But, but you literally just—”

Neku turns around to face her abruptly. “Gave you a morning greeting? You do have some extremely low standards for what people can be your friends, don’t you?”

“I—” Words lodge themselves in-between Shiki’s throat, as she slows down in her steps and Neku’s words run through her head properly. 

… What does it mean that she continues this hopeless attempt at a friendship? A friendship that she hasn’t even forged out of her own initiative, a friendship given to her as a promise from forces beyond her understanding—

“Hey? Are you going to turn all philosopher all of a sudden?”

Shiki looks up again, across the school play-yard back to where Neku is standing, tapping his feet tightly as if in… anticipation?

“Didn’t you want to be friends or something? I’m going to the library now. You coming?”

 

.

 

Trying to accidentally run into Neku during a library visit is one thing. Actually going to the library with Neku is something else entirely. 

“Hey, Neku, say… how come you do want to befriend me all of a sudden?”

“Because I feel like it? And you have always said you wanted to?”

_Yeah, but back then I did it mainly because I could twist that bargain around until I got what I really want, but recently I—_

“Yeah, yeah I do. I’m just glad we are actually trying to be friends now.”

In between shovelling through books for the ones she wants to read herself, Shiki swears she could see a smile glowing from Neku.

“So, Neku, what kind of books do you like reading the most?”

“What kind of books I like… ? Actually, reading’s not really my kind of thing.”

“Huh? Then how come you go to the library so often?”

“Because it’s quiet.”

Shiki puts down the book she was just eyeing. “Because… it’s quiet?”

“Yeah. You do know all the libraries have signs telling people to be quiet, right?” Neku didn’t stop in his own search, tucking into his own arms some more books that apparently have fairies on the cover. “I love that quiet. I love when the world isn’t shoving everything it has into me.”

Shiki turns back to her own pile of book, checking through them a little more dejectedly. “Hmm, so Neku isn’t someone that likes listening to the world so much, huh?”

“You can say that, for sure. It’s… kinda the thing with me.”

Shiki nods along to that. “Right. And for me, well, I guess you know what kind of things I love doing for fun.”

“Yeah, sewing dresses, right? Or, maybe there are more kinds of clothes you enjoy sewing, but I don’t know much about that.”

“That’s fine honestly. I can imagine it’s kinda boring to talk about sewing clothes unless you are very very creative.”

“Which you are. Last I checked, you are quite the fairy-blessed child, aren’t you?”

The imagery of the woman with a basket of kittens and skunks flash across Shiki’s thoughts. “Yeah. Not that it affects my passion much, I’d say. I do enjoy sewing things even without that fairy woman blessing me, and I’d imagine it’s the same with you and graffiti.”

Neku puts away his last book onto the table next to him with a resounding thud, and Shiki finds to her distaste that Neku has no response to her last statement. For reasons she probably should know.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. Can’t say I’m blessed like somebody else though.”

A quiet, timid “yeah” drifts out of Shiki’s lips, and their conversations are finally brought to an end. While Neku is probably relishing his precious silence, Shiki mulls over everything she has said and done.

She draws out the threads connected together to form the conversation just now, examining the tiny fragments strewn together to make all of these threads, wondering over and over again if she is doing the right thing, and if there is a right thing for her to do at all. 

“... Hey, Shiki?”

Shiki gets over the shock of Neku calling her Shiki at long last in three seconds flat. “Yes, Neku?”

“Why exactly do you try so hard to befriend me? And I don’t want you to tell me it’s because of some deals with fairies. I want to know why that happened at all. I want to know if what I’m doing now is worth that.”

“You want to know if being friends with me is worth it? That’s funny, Neku,” A small scent of sarcasm leaks into her voice. “I think you would be clever enough to decide that. Why else would you use your time on me then?”

A small chuckle, not unlike the ones he expends on jocks that have once flown around him. “Quick thinking.”

“Thanks.”

“Maybe we could really try to be friends like that. As long as we both avoid all the psychoanalyzing shit and stepping into each other’s boundaries, I’m sure we will get along just fine.”

“That’s nice.”

“Good to see you agree here, Shiki.”

With that, Neku takes up all the books and puts them down to the checkout counter. Shiki takes a few more minutes of time to herself to look up for her own books, then finds to her own absolute disappointment at the fact that Neku has already gone away.

 

.

 

Neku has been reading off a book specifically about Reaper fairies and Noise fairies when he spots it again.

The black of the wool with some glints of white alongside it. The outline that vaguely resembles a skull. And both of them are present.

It’s them. It has to be them. Probably shouldn’t have come off as a surprise that about the only family household with an actual fairy in their midst would chase him up, but still. It’s not exactly something Neku has counted to happen in his agenda. At all.

The notorious Bito siblings; older brother the regular human boy Beat, and Noise changeling child Rhyme. As far as Neku could remember, they have never mixed in with one another, both of them being somewhere like several classes apart from Neku’s. The younger sister Rhyme, who’s allegedly one year younger than Beat, also got into the same class as him due to her apparent prodigal intellect.

Well, that’s beside the point. The fact is still that ever since today, these two have been stalking him.

Before he has to come up with any plan on the fly however, the clock above the blackboard rings loud, signalling the end of the lunch period. Neku watches with a measure of grim satisfaction as the monochromatic colours of the beanies reclines from sight.

For the time being, he will have to live on a steady diet between libraries and Misaki Shiki before anything else can be done. To trade a potential friend who has always offered themself on a silver platter with throwing off a potential stalker… 

Well, it’s not that bad of a trade. Neku takes back out his stationery for the next lesson, eagerly thinking about what books he will be trying to obtain from the library next.

 

.

 

“I told you, Rhyme, you don’t have to follow me everywhere like this.”

Rhyme frowns, and it feels so achingly familiar that Beat tries his damn hardest not to crack right there. “What are you talking about, Beat? Am I annoying you or something?”

“No, I—” 

“Then let me stay with you. That’s how we have always been, right? So why are you pushing me away all of a sudden?”

_and there he was again, staring deep into the blood-red eyes of the rhyme he had never known, and he has to wonder so so hard why it took him so long to realize there are so many things wrong with those eyes—_

“No reason.” And Rhyme flinches. And Beat’s heart fights to stay whole. “I just can’t have you around me at school, okay?”

“Beat, I know you aren’t some dumbass big brother that just decided to be mean to their little siblings all of a sudden with no good reasons. What happened? Can I help?”

“You can help by staying out of this entire mess, Rhyme.”

And there it was, that little angered flashes of colours across her eyes, the ones that manifest in bursts and only when Rhyme has been pissed off for real.

“Okay. Fine. I know you will see the errors of your ways and turn around. Go ahead now, I won’t annoy you anymore.”

Rhyme turns around and walks back to their classroom, an obvious weight attached to their thunderous steps. To the unpractised, amateur ears, Rhyme would sound like she’s just throwing a fit and being passive-aggressive. 

To people of the Bito family, they’d know Rhyme would soon be out for blood.

“Wait, Rhyme! I was just… I was just…” Words trail off, every single one Beat can muster at all a landmine that would blow up incessantly between them should he speak the truth. 

But even with just how he is acting now, Rhyme seems ready to explode at any time soon enough… 

 “I’m, I’m gonna be honest here, okay? I will tell you what it is, okay?”

Rhyme stops thundering her way back into the classroom, a small smile playing on her lips. “Hmm, that’s good. I know you are always open and honest with me, Beat.”

“Of course I always am.” Beat will save up all these relieved sighs for when this stupid mission from the fairies is done. “Alright, so here’s the thing: I, I uh, kinda, um…”

A gradual frown forms on Rhyme’s creased face. “What happened to telling me the truth again?”

“Right! I’m telling it okay!” What kind of excuse can he have for sure? What to justify his sudden interest in Sakuraba Neku, resident hostile emo with absolutely no respect for anyone in the entire world? What could he—

And then the worst string of words ever pop up from Beat’s mouth completely unprompted.

“I… I kinda have a crush on that Sakuraba.”

Rhyme’s eyes widen to a portion Beat didn’t believe exist. “You. You have a crush?”

The single-syllable affirmation sounds like a solid ounce of lead to dredge up. “... Yes.”

“On Sakuraba. Of all people.”

“Yes.”

Rhyme nods, once twice thrice before gesturing for Beat to follow her. “Let’s talk this out while we head back to homeroom.”

“S—Sure.”

Rhyme takes the lead, though her steps are calmer now, almost methodical in its rhythm while her head hangs low and stares down hard on the ground. 

“So that’s the real reason why you threw me off just now, to go to Sakuraba’s homeroom and peek at him?”

“I mean… Yeah, that’s kinda what I was doing.” The current deep blush born of a deep cringe on his face could totally cover as the evidence of his pretended crush. 

“So, you developed a crush on Sakuraba Neku from class B and you think that you are going to peek on him for ages before you work up the courage to ask him out?”

“Yeah—” Beat catches himself seconds before the sentence is fully processed. “Wait, who the hell told you that’s how I deal with any kind of crushes?”

Rhyme brings her hand up to press on her lips, barely suppressing that soft giggle she always has in the teasing of her older brother. “I’m your younger sister, Beat. I know you just as well as you know me.”

“Right, right, you sure do!”

In the ensuing chatter and laughter, Beat finds some comfort. Comfort that has been in the form of a happy, humane Rhyme. Comfort in knowing the Rhyme he has loved as his little sister is still here, right here in front of him. 

Comfort that at least for now, this Rhyme has no reason to flash their eyes in shades of scarlet and speak in painful sibilants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl, making Beat say that he has a crush on Neku might be one of the most hilarious and ingenious things i've written ever wwwwww
> 
> also, i checked statistics and apparently this fic has four subscribers?! whoever u guys are, thank u for being my fans!!! ilu guys!!!!
> 
> if possible i should also be able to update Unbridled and unanchored hearts later this week... man it has been forever. it's true what they say nanowrimo rly took up ur whole muse by the end of it www.
> 
> as usual, comments and kudos are appreciated!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Four** more books on fairies and their dealings with humans, and collections after collections of fairytales, Neku has managed to come up with several conclusions.

One, there’s no such thing as a guaranteed, fair dealing with fairies. In fact, there’s pretty much no such thing as an equal pay between fairies and humans. There’s always one victor between them. The human won against the fairy’s cruel tricks. Or the story ends with the fairy winning against the foolish human for messing with them. 

Second, it’s rather unnatural and rare for humans to initiate a blood pact with another fairy, and a fairy Gentry member at all. Blood pacts often exist as the topic of stories where the human and fairy pact-formers have already formed a deep emotional bond, and the stories often concentrate on both of them fighting to make their pacts come true with a happy ending.

Neku isn’t so sure if he likes any of these conclusions.

Closing the books and shoving them to one side again, Neku opens his recently-sealed sketchbook, opens it to the centremost page and stares. It was that emblem, the one he has drawn several times from his dream. 

Then he flips back and forth a few more times, and slowly sketches of the Prince’s visage comes into full view.

So this is the one sketchbook he has been looking for. The one he could never show to Them.

 

.

 

_“Do you have any graffiti design project lately, Neku?”_

_Neku forced himself to pause in that, his pencil just laying down one graphite line shaping the contour of a certain face he has nearly sketched into a genuine picture. Something with meaning. “Oh. Um, nothing.”_

_“Weird, the Neku I know is always filled with all sorts of strange and creative ideas…” A knowing smile glided across Their kisser. “Perhaps… you just have the kind of ideas that you don’t want me to see?”_

_“H—Hey! I never said that.”_

_“Of course you won’t say that if you don’t want me to know.”_

_“Yes, I know that, but what I mean here is…”_ That I don’t want you to know how much I have sketched _his_ face and body and his draped limbs and his hair, rolling off alongside his shoulders like strings of pearls— _“I don’t have that many projects to show off right now. We all have downtime and stuff, you know.”_

_They kept up their rather mischievous smile for a few more seconds before it reclined into a small, understanding smile. “Fine, fine, fine. I trust you, Neku. Don’t feel so scared or anything. Even if it’s really something you don’t want to show me, it’s fine.”_

_Neku’s lips twisted into something like a friendly smile back. “Thanks…”_

_Later, when They have left the house, Neku has opened the sketchbook, flipping through every page frantically, watching the way they have formed into a theatre of magic and pretty boys._

 

.

 

“So do you just like sewing dresses for those community centres, or do you not have anything else better to do?”

Shiki frowns, slowing down in her trek into the bookshelves for psychology reference books. “I’m not seeing what you mean here.”

“What I mean is, is this ‘sewing dresses’ a thing that you truly enjoy from the bottom of your heart, or is it just something your mom told you to do?”

Shiki closes the thick book she has in her laps, one that based on what Neku has skimmed, details on how to sew embroidery onto bags and rucksacks. “Hmm. Whether I do all these for fun or…”

“You look to me like the kind of kid that will say it’s for fun and because you do want to do that, but at the same time you don’t strike me as the kind that will answer that truthfully.”

Shiki’s thoughtful expression sours almost immediately, sharp glances from behind her spectacles like knives on the ready for tearing apart Neku’s own words. “Neku? I think it’s kinda interesting how you already define me in some ways.”

“And I’d figured you don’t enjoy that, except you probably won’t comment too much on that either.”

“In the past few months, I’d admit, even despite my best efforts to become your friend, I don’t learn much more about you. If you don’t count the fact that those people out there aren’t lying when they said you have the same emotional warmth as a toaster.”

“Hmm. Do they really say that? That’s an interesting simile.”

Silence. Neku kicks himself under the table. Where are all his genuine efforts to befriend Shiki again?

“Let’s, let’s try this again. What do you enjoy about sewing the most?”

“Model answer should be the dresses, particularly nightgowns, because those are the kinds Mom was making when the fairy woman made the deal with her.”

“... And that’s your model answer, and not what you mean at heart?”

Neku gives himself another kick under the table. What the fuck is wrong with him.

Rather than breaking into blubbers or getting up and slamming the chair back in with obvious distaste, Shiki nods, the motion dejected like a puppy admitting its compliance in a crime. “Yeah, because that’s true. But you might not know what that is until you reached a higher level of friendship with me. You are on Level 2. Good luck.”

Neku can’t help it. He belts out uproarious laughter at that, loud enough that the receptionist librarian is shooting daggers at him, loud enough that Shiki can also no longer hold her composed smile together, breaking into a lip-splitting grin and a bout of laughter with him.

“Then I gotta ask now. When’s that level where I can ask?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’ll let you know as soon as possible.”

“I’m thrilled! Please let me know what level it is the exact moment you have decided.”

Their breathless laughs and breathless attempts to stop laughing die down gradually, melt back into more subtle, teasing smiles at one another.

“... I guess I do like what we are having so far.”

“That’s good! That’s why I’ve always said we should try that out in the past.”

Neku looks back to the book he has opened. Today he’s no longer reading about fairies; today it’s a healthy dose of mystery, high fantasy, and several reference books for single-person portraits. “Guess I… No, the fact is, it does sucks in the past that I just push you away and act all rude to you. It’s unnecessary and I have never realized being friends could… be like this now.”

“Well, I guess it’s never too late to try being friends with someone for real.” Shiki’s smile had seemed gentle, seemed like a genuine precursor to something good. 

Before Shiki can continue, something like a book bumping down the shelf sounds from the distance.

Shiki looks back to the direction of the sound. “Huh? Did somebody drop something or… ?”

“What kind of question is that? Surely they can sort themselves out.”

Neku can see it in Shiki’s slowly raised frame, irritation lapping at his heels as Shiki does get herself up from the chair and walks towards the sound. “Hello? Can I help you there in the stead of Miss Ishikawa? She just left the library for a bathroom break, so I don’t know if you—”

Some murmurs, as if wind rustling through the leaves, continue to ring at that corner like nobody is making a move to approach them, and somehow Neku has found some measures of anger at that too, because it’s so painfully obvious that they come from—

“Beat, just go out and try to befriend them.”

Shiki blinks, several times, rapidly in surprise. “Bito— I mean, Beat and Rhyme? Is that you guys?”

_Jesus. Not this._

No Jesus has heard that small prayer from Neku in spite of it, as the humanoid shadows behind the bookshelves do come into sight with black and white and orange and gold. “Oh, hello there. Is that Misaki Shiki from class C?”

“Yeah! Nice to meet you guys!” Shiki comes up to them fully, holding out a hand towards the younger sister already. “I don’t believe we have talked much in the past. Here’s hoping we could improve that!”

“Sure.” Rhyme’s smile still looks as easy as it is summoned, while Beat looks uncomfortable in a way that’s basically him begging to be released from this body. “It’s wonderful seeing you here. I’m afraid Beat and I are rather lost in the issues of trying to find a book.”

“That’s no big problem there! Surely Neku and I can help you guys solve these issues in no time at all!” Shiki then does turn back to Neku, and drags him by the arm despite his louder warnings and protestations, “We are both librarians here, so feel free to ask us anything.”

Neku moves to Shiki’s right in the most subtle manner he could manage. “Shiki? I can’t exactly recall the moment I told you it’s fine that you introduce me to just anyone you met.”

Shiki taps him, a series of butterfly-light brushes on Neku’s shoulders. “Huh? Is that so? Remind me again who is it just now that said it’s possible to have fun when you befriend someone?”

_I limited that to you! I never said it could include just about anyone else. And since when were we actual librarians—_

“Anyway! Do you wanna tell us what it is that you need to look up?”

Rhyme turns to Beat, giving Beat’s shirt an impish tug and a mischievous, playful grin. “Well? Beat? What is it that you need help for again?”

Beat finally does look up to everyone else again, quiet and what sounds like embarrassed words drifting up while Rhyme strains to hear. 

“I see… Yeah, that sounds like it… Okay.” Rhyme turns to Shiki and Neku, a small smile with somewhat less impish implications bright on her face. “Beat was wondering if you guys have any reference book on interpersonal relationships.”

“Interpersonal relationships? Any specification in that, or just interpersonal relationships in general?”

“Hmm, just interpersonal relationships, in general, should be fine.”

Shiki winks to Neku, something irksome and puckish in her small gait towards the reference bookshelves. “Got it! Wait a few minutes!”

And so Shiki drags Neku with her by the shoulders, walking deep into the bookshelves of darkness.

 

.

 

“Beat? You still doing fine there?”

Beat supposes all the nervous blubbering he has right now should look convincing enough for someone who allegedly has a crush on someone present. “Yeah, I’m okay so far.”

“Gosh, Beat, I still can’t believe that out of all the boys and girls present in this entire grade, you somehow land your eyes on Sakuraba of all people.”

“I thought we agreed that you won’t make fun of my—”

“I know I know! I’m not making fun of you, Beat. I’m just surprised is all.” Rhyme swivels her eyes between Beat’s intense blush to Neku’s completely nonchalant, borderline vexed facial expression. “I mean… that Neku doesn’t exactly look like he would fit your taste.”

“Since when did you become an expert on what my tastes on men is like then?”

“I uphold the belief that all siblings automatically share knowledge on that unless you really are holding back, But then, by all means, hide so I can guess more.” 

Beat watches Neku creep deeper into the bookshelves, his movements locked with tension, with eyes that appear to bear into others’ while doing the most they can to not bear into others. He tries to crack a casual smile for Rhyme. “Sure, I will keep that competition in mind. And it will be my revenge time when _your_ crush shows up.”

“Fat chance you’re getting it.”

 

.

 

Shiki does end up dragging Neku to the last row of the reference bookshelves, just far enough that the Bito siblings should be out of earshot. Then she turns back to Neku with a conspiratorial smile. “Hey, Neku? How do you think about those friends?”

“For the last time, Shiki, I literally did not agree to be their friends, at all.”

“I know I know, Neku, but consider this: you are getting double the friends by them becoming friends with me, which means their friends offer will always be available—”

“Look, Shiki, it’s super sweet that you consider this as your way of trying to help me, but for the last fucking time,” Neku punctuates the next word with a more heavy-handed throw of one of the reference books onto the pile Shiki is carrying. “No.”

Shiki looks unhappy enough right then to lose it, but before any storm could take place in her features, she simply gives a shrug. “That makes sense. For now, I will just see what decision you do end up having.”

“Sure. In the meantime, we will keep being friends.”

“Good! I intend that for as long as possible.”

 

.

 

“Oh, I see, so that’s why that artist… Um, what’s his name again?”

“CAT. His name’s CAT. Or maybe it’s a she or they, there’s no one who really knows what CAT’s gender is.” Neku pulls back the magazine, and Shiki raises her head a little higher as if just to steal another glance on the catalogue, and Neku is thinking _finally_. “Anyway, as for their—”

“Hey! Are that Sakuraba-san and Misaki-san over there?”

A heavy boulder plummets all the way through Neku’s head to the pit of his stomach while Shiki turns, smiles and waves back at the incoming Bito sister. “Oh, hello there Raimu-san, Daisu—”

“Just Rhyme and Beat are fine, Misaki-san! And we are both doing great. We hope it’s the same case for you.” 

Neku thought he has at least become somewhat used to Rhyme’s perpetual, frozen smile, but when she gives Beat a small elbow jerk on the shoulder and whispers, he has no idea what he’s supposed to think.

Shiki turns back to him and, as if already knowing Neku will look at the interactions with frowns, pulls him out of his seat.

“Hey what the—”

“Come on now. Let’s talk to them some more.”

“Shiki, I’ve literally—”

“ _Neku_ ,” Shiki’s countenance turns serious for a second. It was almost enough for Neku to seriously consider what she has to say. “I’m not stuffing friends down your throat just because I feel like it and I’m slightly less introverted than you. I do it because I’m your friend and I genuinely want the best for you.”

_You and I know each other for less than a whole month and already you think you know all that may somehow better me, somehow you think you already know what’s the best for me? Do you—_

“Fine. Let’s see.”

Neku lets himself be pulled along to the play-yard, where Rhyme is watching Beat from a distance. Beat is apparently stretching himself. There’s a skateboard next to him.

Neku inches himself closer to where Rhyme is. “Um, what is your big brother doing?”

Rhyme’s lips part, only for her eyes to turn skyward as if in hesitation. Then she tiptoes to Neku’s ears, once twice, before Neku realizes the necessity of crouching down for her. “He’s going to perform his best skateboarding stunts.”

“Because? For whatever reasons?”

Rhyme smiles brightly again, shoulders loosening as she tilts her head, looking at Neku like a small observing owl. “Who knows? Maybe big bro has someone to impress.”

“That… wouldn’t happen to be Shiki or me, would it?”

Rhyme’s head tilts to the other side, looking back to where Beat’s standing. “Hmm, who knows?”

Neku has known Rhyme for a maximum of one single day maybe, and yet the way she has adjusted her tone and body language is not giving Neku confidence that she’s not planning something. Something sinister. 

Either way. Neku looks back out to the play-yard, Shiki’s insistent smile and Rhyme’s mischievous smile playing in the background of his mind.

The play-yard is all flat and has no actual facilities other than the over-head baskets for basketballs on either side of the field, along with goalposts for football on either side as well. And yet, even with so little and so many constraints at the same time, Beat does show himself to know how to use the skateboard much to his advantages. 

Despite Neku’s low, borderline non-existent appreciation for skateboarding in general, there’s still no denial in how hard Beat is trying his best. Even as he falls down, even as he bruises from the impact, he gets back up without a pause, without even an exhausted huff, still nimble and agile on his feet as he manoeuvres back on the skateboard again. 

It’s hard to describe that as anything other than genuine dedications.

After what feels like ten solid minutes of watching Beat flitting and jetting through the air on his trusty skateboard, Rhyme walks onto the play-yard herself. “That’s enough, Beat. Don’t strain yourself any much further.”

It looks like Beat pouts there for a moment, but then he obliges, walking back to the others with a wave around his beanie. “So, how was that?”

He’s looking at Neku.

Neku watches the other two girls’ lips stay pressed and coughs. “Um, that’s… Okay, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know enough about skateboarding to feel particularly impressed or anything, but…” He looks towards the small bruises dotted across Beat’s skin. “It’s great. You put your heart and soul into that and I appreciate it.”

_Jesus, I’m really turning into some sort of weird reformed introvert emo kid like fuck—_

Beat freezes for a few more seconds, then he smiles too, though unlike his sister his smile is slow to pop up, more like an artwork slowly being coloured over the rough lines. “Thank, thanks. Rhyme kinda like, always wants me to show that off for some reasons—”

“ _Ha_. You told him what exactly is the—”

“Anyway! It, it really means a lot that you like it, like,” Beat looks from skywards to the ground to around him, eyes landing everywhere other than Neku himself. There’s an obvious patch of heat on his cheeks and Neku wonders if he should offer him some water for that. “Like, you enjoy that show.”

“No problem. I mean, yeah, it’s cool.” A small storm of heat rages on Neku’s own cheeks. Maybe he should really update his vocabulary in some ways. “It’s, totally cool that you guys did that. If you’d like it, I’d… definitely love to see it again.”

Beat releases a huge sigh at that, though judging on the smile it accompanies it’s a definite sign of happiness. “S—Sure! Always glad to perform for a friend.”

 _A friend_. It’s that word. Because that’s how it has always come back to, how the world’s karma has always decided to do with him, isn’t it?

Despite that thought, his smile has still come up. “Yes. And I’m always glad to see a friend improve.”

 

.

 

“Can you boys really not walk any much longer? We’ve just been wandering on the first floor for nearly half an hour.”

Neku looks down on the bags of clothes he has with him and briefly wonders if it is a doomed fate of kinds that all men must carry their friends’ huge heaping of clothes at some points. “N—No, I’m fine honestly, I just—”

“Actually, I think that if Sakuraba-san really doesn’t want to walk around much longer and needs a break,” Rhyme flashes her brother an undeniably puckish wink. “You can just wait there with my big bro. I can walk around some more with Misaki-san instead.”

“Oh, that sounds nice!” Shiki pushes several more of her bags onto Neku, then draws Rhyme to her side. “You boys go rest for a while here! We will come back around half an hour later! Bye!”

“But I didn’t even—”

Before Neku can protest any further, Shiki and Rhyme are already cheerfully walking away, leaving both boys with bags and bags and bags—

Beat speaks up first. “So… You wanna go and—”

“No.” The slightly harsh tone must have shocked both of them, because while Beat’s awkwardness shines through in his increasingly red blush, Neku stops short of that, picking apart the words inside him and wondering which thread would offend Beat the least. “What I mean is, I don’t—”

Beat scratches the back of his head, tugging his beanie slightly lower. “It’s, it’s fine if you really don’t want to—”

“I promise I don’t mean that, so please don’t feel bad.” For maybe the millionth time since this month, Neku wishes he has his headphones turned on to a volume of a thousand, deafening him to everything in the world immediately. “How, how about we just find somewhere to sit down and uh, talk if you like?”

This whole befriending business has really softened him to an incomprehensible degree, but here they are, sat down on the benches lining the centremost regions of the first floor, watching kids and elderly pass by quickly. 

And of course, there is no shortage of tourists with red and blacks around too.

In this small space of ensuing silence, truths start dribbling around Neku’s lips.

“Say… Why exactly do you two try to befriend Shiki?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t try to play dumb here, okay? There’s no way any of you would try to be my friend of all things.” _Not to mention the fact that you two were trying to stalk me in the first place_. “Pretty much everyone in this damn school knows how much of an obnoxious prick I am. It would be the last fucking thing on anyone’s agenda to be my friend.”

Neku pointedly looks down to the ground while saying that, stealing upward glances here and there in small bits of anticipation that Beat will come up with some concrete excuses for why, or outright threats to him on what he wants Neku to do, or anything, in all actuality—

“Look, Sakuraba… Neku, if you don’t mind me calling you that,” Beat is looking at him on a levelled gaze, shoulders held tight and leaning a little bit forward. “I, I know it must be very hard to believe, but there are people in this world who want to know you, and to care. Look at Misaki-san. Didn’t you guys manage to become friends too?”

_Yeah, because I was so totally a big fan of evading stalkers—_

“Maybe. Maybe that is true.” Against his own wish, Neku does continue. He looks to all the pedestrians passing by, fast ones and slow ones all forming flurries of red, orange, yellow black and— 

“It’s not like… I don’t want anyone to ever understand me—” 

_(—except that is you, so don’t lie—)_

“—It’s just, even now, I feel like… there’s an emptiness somewhere in my heart that very little other people can fill…” 

 _(—You stole that line from Them? Nice to see you haven’t completely forgotten just yet—)_  

“... So yeah, I guess, to some degree, it does explain all that. To still be unable to…” _Plop plop plop_. Somewhere in the back of his head, Neku could hear his ideas steadily running out of reserves. “Like, so yeah—”

A strong gust of squall blows past his head all of a sudden, accompanied by a moderately warm arm wrapping him up from behind, like the world’s sweatiest scarf decides to plaster itself around his neck.

“So? Isn’t finally letting more people in good enough?” Neku turns to face Beat, and surprises himself with the sight of an unabashedly happy smile from Beat, the kind that looks infectious and teases and lures Neku’s own lips to form a smile. “Shiki has been that beginning, and Rhyme and I can be that continuation. Isn’t that getting along good for you? Of course, I’m not saying that I am somehow some, like, I dunno, automatically best friend materials, but—”

“Plea—Please don’t downplay your own good or anything,” Neku returns a few pats on Beat’s shoulders, lightly removing his arm to help his own blush recede. “You… you have definitely been a way better friend than me, at the very least. You are much… better than you thought.”

“And so are you!”

 

.

 

“Are you having lunch all alone again or something?”

Today it’s only Rhyme, and no one else is in sight.

“Yeah. How’s your brother? Is he doing okay?”

“Oh, he’s fine. Just in a little trouble with the school again.” And then Rhyme’s gazing back out the windows, where a new shopping mall is due to be built, slurping her smoothie absentmindedly. 

The ensuing silence is filled with words waiting to be released, and Neku uncomfortably finds he has to be the one to lead them out of his way. “Is he… what did the school do?”

Rhyme smiles, just like usual, except this time it’s a smile full of teeth, a smile thoroughly leaking all the impish mischief Rhyme has always only teased at possessing. “Huh? Interesting that’s how you asked me about it, Sakuraba-san. What do you think? What do you think the school has committed?”

Neku puts down his half-eaten sandwich with great effort. “Um… Maybe he… punched somebody who shouldn’t have run their mouth on someone.”

“Ah hah. And who do you think that would be?”

“You, you mean, I guessed right?”

“Yeah, you surely did. So, who do you think has the lucky honour?”

“... Surely not somebody related to me or anything, right?”

Neku half-intends that as a joke, but the moment he said so Rhyme puts down her smoothie, stares at Neku hard, then gives his forehead a good flick.

“Ouch!”

“Jeez, and I can’t believe my big brother did that shit for you. Maybe I shouldn’t have pulled him back in that case.”

Realization hits Neku uncomfortably fast. “He… got in trouble for hitting someone trash-talking me or…”

“That’s right, you knucklehead.” Rhyme annoyingly tucks her smoothie back to herself. “In all honesty, I should have just—”

“What the hell did you just say, Rhyme?”

Rhyme jumps, as if enough to startle her right out of the chair. “B—Beat? How are you so fast to—”

“Damn, and everyone back at home keeps telling me you have the conduct as good as that cousin working at the pharmacy has,” Beat now sports a shy-ish, half-embarrassed beam as he redirects his attention to Neku. “Sorry for getting you worried or anything. Rhyme did sometimes have a penchant for doing things she’s not supposed to, when she thinks no one will catch her on that.”

“What? I said nothing wrong.” 

A familiar giggle rings from behind Neku, and an upside-down image of Shiki’s bespectacled smile comes into focus. 

Neku crosses his arms with a fake pout. “And where did you go?”

“Neku, I don’t know if anyone has informed you, but sometimes friends have stuff they have to tend to rather than just hanging out.” With that said, Shiki brings up a rather huge bag of what looks like a variety of fabrics. Then, as per usual habits, she gives Neku’s shoulders a small punch. “When those friends do come back, though, there’s always time to hang out!”

“Yeah, sounds great.” The customary chill edge in Neku’s voice melts, bits by bits, and there’s a cacophony of ‘yes’ and ‘no’ playing in his head. 

 

.

 

The school bell rings right afterwards, with Shiki bemoaning the lack of a longer lunch break as she brings her bag of fabric away and Beat follows, gesturing for Rhyme to follow lest they are late to the next class.

“Come on Rhyme!”

“Coming, coming!” There’s a lilt to Rhyme’s tone, and then she turns back to Neku.

“What more fun lies do you have for me?” Neku starts, a small but concrete (in his opinions) attempt to keep the light mood and humour in the atmosphere. 

“Not any, really. In my family, I’m always the quiet one that mom and dad assume I never talk out loud unless it’s something very, very important.” At that, she tilts her head at him again, the way she does sometimes when she wants the rest of them to come up with conclusions to what she said. “So trust me when I said all this. Beat and I really, really do want to be your friends.”

 

.

 

Between the third or fifth visit to the library with Shiki, Neku hasn’t picked up any other pseudo-science reference book. Instead, he has opted to look up reference books about wool and cashmere with Shiki.

“Do you really never get bored with sewing?”

“Do you ever get bored about CAT’s designs or anything like that?”

 _They_ have made a weak attempt to knock on Neku’s head with that, the Udagawa murals flashing across his thoughts with it. But it was just that, just a split-second flash. “No, of course not. I guess sewing, to you, is kinda _the_ life passion that you intend to go with your whole life.”

“I guess so, yeah! At least, for now, I do love it. Just like how you love your graffiti designs too.” 

“Indeed, that’s true.” Neku skims through another selection of cashmere handling basics, then decides on the one with a friendly-looking sheep on it. “You know, after all these talks of interests and habits and stuff, I never get to ask you—”

One small slip of parchment, yellow and worn at the edges, falls away from the book as he opens it. 

He bends down and picks it up, and the familiar emblem shines through Neku’s sclera, 

right into his heart.

_Bring your best sketchbook to the occasion, don’t leave things related to your heart behind._

 

.

 

Shiki watches Neku freeze upon seeing the parchment, but out of manners, she has refrained from asking.

Neku, to his credit, makes little fuss retrieving the parchment, stuffs it into his pocket, and hands the original book back to Shiki. “This one is about some more basic stuff on wool. You might want it, right?”

“Y—Yeah, I’m not exactly an expert on wool after all…”

As per their common habits, the duo finds a spot at the back of the library and start reading whatever books they have picked. Today, though, with a Neku without any of his books beside his headphones, Shiki has found it difficult to retain the quiet they have always had.

“... Neku? Did I ever tell you about the friend I’ve had in the past?”

Neku has looked back at her with an unreadable expression, his lips hidden underneath his hoodie, so there is no smile or completed frown to descry or judge anything out of.

“Last I recall, we didn’t have an agreement on disclosing our tragic backstories all of a sudden.” Neku looks out the windows, right hand rubbing up against his left arm. “I’m not saying that you can’t, of course.”

Shiki gazes back to her reference book, just in time to see the photo of a cat doll on it. 

“My oldest friend… and the only friend I had when I was young, is a kid called Eri. She’s an excellent fashion designer, and even much younger, when we just knew each other, I can tell her talent can’t be paralleled. 

“Eri and I, ever since we knew each other, we have a good partnership going on. She has such enthralling designs and an eye for fashion trends, while I have always been blessed with sewing talents. Even outside of children’s chit-chat, we have always come up with projects of our own, made clothes we love and try to achieve what little dreams we had in the past.

“And that’s why… even now, even when we have long separated from each other, I have missed her like no other.”

Shiki opens her eyes, fluttering eyelids waking back up to the sight of a gentle-snoring Neku, his headphones nearly falling out with his head lolling on the side. 

“... Neku?”

“Uh?” Neku’s feet kick out, startled into a jerk of his head back against the seat with an ‘ouch’. “You were— I mean, you were just, uh, talking about—”

Shiki laughs, giving Neku’s left hand a gentle pat. “It’s fine. You haven’t slept quite well recently, did you? Or maybe it’s something wrong?”

_You know you can tell me all about it—_

“I— I’m fine, of course.” Neku gives her right hand a gentle squeeze back, nodding. “And I’m sorry for sleeping on you like that. If you don’t mind, I can hear you out on another day… ?”

“Sure! I’m glad you want to listen at all.”

 

.

 

“So how exactly did you decided to be a skateboarder?”

Beat tucks back his skateboard as Neku’s question lands, a look of utter confusion across his face. “Me deciding to be a skateboarder?”

“Yeah. Rhyme told me that you want to be the world’s greatest skateboarder someday, isn’t it? So I’m curious, if you are comfortable with telling me so, that is. Why do you want to be one?”

A few minutes pass by without any answer, then Beat throws back his head in uproarious laughter.

“That Rhyme… I can’t believe she remembers things like that…” Between each somewhat choked, spattered breath, Beat has finally come back to regard Neku with something between mirth and affections. “No, it’s not exactly my life dream to become a skateboarder.”

“Huh? Then why did Rhyme—”

“I think you might be able to tell at this point, that Rhyme does like making tiny white lies from time to time.” Beat walks towards the school gate with his skateboard tucked under his arm, and Neku takes that as a cue to follow. They stroll off to the small flea market outside of school when Beat speaks up again. “I do love skateboarding, but whether I want to pursue that as a life passion… I dunno. It kinda has always been a joke between the two of us.”

Neku blinks. “A joke? But you do like it, so…”

“I do love it, but I think it will take me ages before I can decide if that is a dream I truly want.” 

“That’s super fair.” Neku watches tourists pass by, with charms and devil wings charms and words charms with extra edgy fonts. He avoids the booths with music-themed charms.

At the end of that, mutual silence sweeps them up again. An uncomfortable awareness of the abundance of fairy merchandise around them rises in Neku’s heart again. 

“... Is it difficult, keeping a fairy younger sister?”

Beat turns back to him on a sharp turn, and Neku nearly bumps into his skateboard. 

“Is it difficult to keep a fairy younger sister? Is that what you want to know?”

Shit. There goes all the courtesy and good friend facade he’s been building. “That, that might have been a rude question, and I’m sorry for—”

“No, it’s fine, and… I wouldn’t have liked talking about it, but since it’s a friend…” Beat looks down onto the ground with a huge sigh and said. “It’s nothing that different. Rhyme is just like any other little sister in this world, and I love her for being here, for being with us.”

 _Just like any other in the world_. Neku’s thoughts trail back to the river, to Udagawa with its murals and graffiti-ed back streets. “That would be a wonderful thing, to be able to treat all the bullshit magical things in this town like anything else in this world.”

“Maybe you can, too, if you would just…” Beat fumbles with his fingers, gesturing in the air with empty movements before dropping them back down his sides. “Ah. You know I’m no good with words, but I think you understand what I mean.” 

The words are right behind his lips, surging up his throat, _but do you know about the coffin and the prince and everything around him and my hopes and dreams with him and—_ “I know. They never tamper with Shibuya locals, so I will just, I can just stick to you guys and… be normal…” 

“Sakuraba… Neku, I can’t say I know anything about the kind of pain you once had and all the way they have tied to fairies and stuff in Shibuya.” They have walked to the end of the flea market, and it’s close to the Hachiko statue with its golden light, with the normality and luminosity of a Sunday afternoon. “But we are here for you. And I hope that still speaks for something.”

 

.

 

 _Here for you_ , because he literally has to. Because he never has a choice. 

Beat shakes his head violently against the stench of chlorine and whatever kinds of washing powder used, throwing all those words and sentences and threats and shades of red against his cranium, against layers of his neurons until they have flashed back into blank, cooling ebony of nothingness—

“Daisukenojo! Are you done with the laundry or do you need your mom to come down and—”

“I’m done! I’m done!” Beat heaves up the basket of laundry, cleaned and washed underwear and t-shirts and another piece of clothing Beat has no idea exist onto the washing machine. All the socks cling tightly onto the top of the basket, all on the precipice of slipping off and falling back onto the cold hard ground if he’s any less careful.

Out of what is possibly a sense of mirth, Beat counts up the socks as he picks some of them back up the top. 

“Wait… Where’s this black one gone?” 

Beat frowns at the top of the laundry basket, counting up the socks again and confirming that yeah, one black sock, the exact one with white stripes around the ball of the feet and the tip, is definitely missing its twin. 

A gnawing vexation bites down Beat’s head. This is the kind of things that sometimes tempts him to make some sort of stupid deal with the fairies to avoid completely in his entire lifetime. Or at least as long as his parents and other familial elders will look after him. What will they think of him this time? _Go out there and buy back this pair. Why don’t I ever see Raimu missing anything? Why are you, the older brother, always missing everything in your—_

No time to overthink that. The only practical solution that immediately reaches Beat is to scrounge around the insides of the washing machine. He feels along the wet metallic interior of the inner tube, feeling nothing like the soft, wet fabric of the sock anywhere on his palm, and that has contributed, contributed to building something else in Beat, something like fear and fury and—

“Beat?”

Beat looks up, choking back bullets of pain he doesn’t know he’s so ready to launch everywhere. “Rh—Rhyme? What are you doing here?”

“Mom asked me to come down and see what help you might need.” Rhyme looks over the basket, frowning. “So, do you need help for—”

“No—Nothing, nothing that will piss off mom at least, so you can just go back down and—”

“Wait.” Rhyme pokes a hand against the basket, giving it a gentle shove to force Beat put it back down onto the top of the washing machine. Her frown deepens. “There’s something wrong here, isn’t it?”

“Of course not, Rhyme, literally why would I ever lie to you, right? And anyway—”

“There’s a black sock missing. And it’s the new pair mom brought me some time ago.”

 _Shit_. Beat stops flailing his arms around, slumping them down with a huge sigh and staving off the urges to just knock on either side of his own useless, useless head. “I’m, I’m sorry Rhyme, you don’t deserve this kind of—”

“We can talk about me later. It’s a goddamned sock, I won’t die—”

“I know you won’t, I’m not saying stupid shit like that, but it’s still your socks and you don’t have to try to—”

“Give that other sock to me.”

Beat draws a dramatic pause at that. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Give that other sock to me, before mom’s obviously going to rush down here and see you like this.”

“What the hell are you even going to do with the sock, Rhyme? Are you going to eat it or something? There’s nothing you can do here, and you know I can deal with mom—”

“Daisukenojo!”

“There’s no time, you big idiot,” Rhyme stomps down on the ground twice and, seeing Beat still blocking the basket with his own body, she shouts. 

A piercing screech makes its way through Beat’s skull, shattering every concrete thought he has held onto just seconds ago. He rushes to protect his ears as he steps back, and nothing _is_ real anymore, and there’s nothing but a hot whiteness in front of him—

“Daisukenojo! How many times have I told you to work faster?”

Beat opens his eyes and releases his fingers clamped to his ears. Mom is standing in front of him with an expression that screams  _you are so grounded tonight if you give me the same excuse or how you don’t have time for it_ , but before Beat can open his mouth to defend himself, a shrill snarl sounds from behind him.

They both look behind him and towards the washing machine, and there is Rhyme with one black sock hanging from between her lips, a feral look in her eyes.

Mom completely forgets about Beat and his laundry basket. “Raimu? Rhyme? Are you, are you doing okay—”

Rhyme sends another small snarl into the air, baring her teeth and viciously biting down on the black sock. The entire scenario would look funny if not for the fact of who the doer is. 

Beat shoves the basket a little, then he grabs Rhyme on the shoulders. “Rhyme? Are you doing okay?”

Which is an immensely stupid question, he knows, but Rhyme’s lips are less peeled upon that question, the vicious light in her eyes dimmer. 

“Look, Rhyme, I don’t know whatever it is that has been tampering with your body again. Maybe it’s Konishi with her stupid bullshit again, or whoever the hell is the game master of the upcoming Reaper’s Game, but promise me you will stay with us?” There’s a stupidly childlike crack in his voice. “Please?”

Rhyme’s jaw softens bit by bit until the black sock drops back down onto the ground, and she’s gazing back at mom and Beat with brilliant blue eyes.

“Mom? Beat? What happened?”

“Your brother just saved you from fairy stuff again.” Mom heaves a huge sigh from behind them, and she’s holding her chest as if any second she’s not doing so her heart will pop right out. With that said, mom puts a comforting hand on Beat’s left shoulder. “You did great, Daisukenojo. I admit it had been stupid of me to try to assume you were fooling around, when in fact you were trying to save your little sister.”

Beat looks back to the top of the laundry basket, millions of thoughts racing across the blankness of his mind. 

Rhyme nods to that, a small hum rolling off her lips as they form a smile. “That’s true. Thank you for saving me again, big bro.”

“But, but I don’t even know what the hell I have—”

“It’s no matter now, since you have solved it!” Rhyme’s smile persists still, her head lolling to one side like she always does when she wants to appear happy, carefree. “Thank you for coming after me, big brother. Though I gotta say, I have no idea what I have just eaten…”

Mom looks down onto the ground and retrieves the solitary black sock from it. “It’s the new pair of socks I brought you last week.”

At that, Rhyme’s expression turns immediately sour. “Ugh… Sorry I did that, mom.” 

Mom smiles her own smile, brilliant and forgiving. “It’s fine, Raimu. You couldn’t have helped with your nature.”

 _You couldn’t have helped with your nature_. 

If only someone had told Beat that.

 

.

 

“Hey, Rhyme? Did you actually lose it back then?”

Rhyme looks back at Beat, nonchalant. “I’m sorry, what do you mean?”

“Back there, was it really your, like, fairy nature losing it, or did you just try to cover for me about the sock?”

Rhyme turns away from Beat, one hand to her chin with her eyes closed as if deep in thought. “Hmm… I wonder again, who is it that always said it’s kinda terrible that mom and dad never—”

“ _Rhyme_.” Beat pulls onto Rhyme’s right arm, squeezing it while words swim around his neurons, the right ones for his sister waiting to be picked up and rinsed and presented. “We’ve talked about this. You don’t have to pull all that just so mom and dad will get off my back. It’s no big deal.”

Rhyme snorts. “I will go back to the fairies before I believe that.” 

“And don’t joke like that! You know everyone else is always scared when you joke about going back to the fairies.”

“They can be scared about that when the next Reaper’s Game comes in, because no Reaper’s Game is taking place for another twenty-five years. And Reaper fairies don’t just get their Noise charges back before that.”

“I know, Rhyme, I know those basic rules. You told us again and again about how exactly the Reaper’s Game works between all the fairies.” Beat looks down on Rhyme’s beanie, and he swears sometimes he can still see all the moss and grass and similar whatnot growing on its fringes. “The Reaper’s Game comes around every fifty years, during which Reapers shove out all their Noises and pit them against each other in a survival game. For those Noises unfortunate enough to lose…”

“Their Reapers turn them into the standard changeling and replace them with local Shibuya human children, or any tourist who’s unlucky enough to stumble upon the sites of their games.” Rhyme articulates off as if a clear view of the game is happening right in front of her again, and Beat supposes it is possible, because otherwise how would she be here, standing in this household, in the skins of a certain Raimu adopted by the Bito household?

Beat looks back down onto the ground, looking around for a spot he could focus on. 

“... Rhyme?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you ever regret staying with us?”

It’s nearly sunset, and the golden sunlight shining through the windows dapples on Rhyme’s unreadable face, turning it into a lovely —so terrible, so terrible— shade of wistful silence. “Remember when Sakuraba-san said that as long as we don’t try to psychoanalyse him, we can be good friends?”

“That applies to someone outside our family, but you are one of us—”

“Well, I think that does apply to even people inside a family sometimes. Sometimes it’s better not to talk so in-depth of things we aren’t ready to know.” Rhyme turns away from Beat completely, walking towards the bedroom door on a slightly brisk pace, and pulls the door open with considerable force.

Then she looks back.

“So, are you ready to know?”

Beat’s tongue is imprisoned behind hesitating lips.

Rhyme doesn’t wait around for the answer. She walks off, slipping out of the bedroom as nothing has ever exited the room.

 

.

 

Shiki presses the Backspace button on her keyboard, holds it out, until the user ID on the friend request field is completely deleted. 

She has, of course, considered many potential issues of sending it in the first place, before some mixture of fear and panic takes over and stops her right before she presses Enter. What if she has moved on from this handle right after they deleted each other? What if she has moved on, moved on far too much to remember all that history they once have? What if one of them did something that ruined it again? What if _she_ did something that ruined it this time?

Mom will be yelling for her to get dinner soon. Mom does very beyond that, serving lunches and dinners and smiles and questions about if she’s doing okay in all the community centres or other random commissions she got from women wearing their dresses like they are fairies flaunting their beauty around awestruck humans.

Yeah, it’s true, mom rarely questions anything else or serve anything else on Shiki’s silver platter. She doesn’t ask questions about Nyantan. She doesn’t question about all the people outside sprouting web-like wings or black devil wings, not that she would care, and maybe only women with baskets of furry animals would interest her after all. She doesn’t question why Eri just stops appearing on their doorsteps one summer day, perhaps thinking that both girls have come to some bizarre conclusion that their artistic talents can flourish better without each other’s interference. 

Or that could be everything Shiki is imagining her mother think, because most of the time she stays in her own room, poring over designs and fabric supplies and customer reviews far too much for Shiki to get anything more out of her. 

She can try sending it a different time. Shiki looks across her messy work table again and seeing all the blue threads she has finally remembered to buy is both satisfying and discouraging at the same time.

Whatever. She has all the dresses for the community showcase ready, so she can kick back and just relax for one night, for sure. 

Shiki closes the friend request page of the app and scrolls down to her contacts. There’s a red dot of notification on the user with an icon of a cat with headphones.

Shiki brings a hand to cover the laughter from leaking out of her lips. Somehow, that laughter feels like something for the person in question to consume, and not for the world. She clicks the private message window.

**—Do you ever try to make dolls of fairies or something like that? Something tells me that if you don’t actually love making dresses, maybe you would like dolls and plushies instead. I mean, there’s that one pig doll you call Mr Piggy you made when you were younger, isn’t it?**

Shiki’s fingers hover inches across the N button. A girl’s voice halos her memories with a small black cat trying to paw at them.

_—Hmm, not really? Can’t say I’m exactly a big fan of all those fairies. Even though I am blessed by them, it’s still kinda out of my mom’s volitions and not exactly my kind of thing._

_—And for the last time, that’s a black cat doll. He has a name, Nyantan._

**—But then…**

Shiki watches the speech bubble hovers for a few more seconds, then Neku stops typing. 

Another message pops up.

**—I understand that then. Sorry if it has seemed preposterous of me to assume anything.**

_—It’s fine! Don’t worry about that._

Even as she typed so, the image of _her_ smile comes into her mind, heart, unbidden, but not exactly unwelcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOF THIS CHAPTER IS LONG... we got the kids interacting more and having fun while pain and dark futures await mwahahaha (laughs like an evil author)
> 
> hope u guys have enjoyed it!!! yes i know it's likely only those four subscribers are reading this www but if u happen to just drop by and read a little and like what u see, dropping a kudos and a comment is immensely appreciated!! (i nearly type 'imemensely') always remember that another kudos/comment is another drop of honey down us fic authors' hearts!!!
> 
> 'til next time!!! i will try my best to edit faster so i can put out the chapters quicker ww


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